All Gave Some, Some Gave All-- a Memorial Day Tribute
by 8belles
Summary: A Captain America tribute to our military and their families on this upcoming Memorial Day Weekend.


**All Gave Some, Some Gave All—Memorial Day tribute**

_A/N- as most authors do, I write in more than one Universe. I have written a 4__th__ of July story for __Bones,__ a Veterans Day story for __Sleepy Hollow__, and so it only seems fitting that Memorial Day get a Captain America Story. Not trying to win a Pulitzer, but I want military personnel all around the world that you do your countries proud, but my heart belongs to the U.S.A. Bless our Military and their families. _

Pre-Captain America: Winter Soldier

Rogers wasn't alone, far from it. People moved all around him, snapping pictures of the monument and posing in front of the statuary. The fountains were on this bright spring morning, showering water in respectful arcs in front of the 4000 gold stars mounted on the grey granite wall behind.

He felt simultaneously at home and alone.

In his mind, he remembered after waking up, learning that VE Day had occurred on May 8th 1945 and how relieved he felt that his work wasn't in vain. It had hit him again like two tons of bricks that James was still gone and he as was going to face this new millennium alone. The Howling Commandos, he had discovered, were somber that night drinking in toasts to him, thinking he was lost in action after he had crashed the plane in the Arctic.

_Funny how things come back around_, he thought meditatively to himself, staring at his shoes.

Hands jammed into his jean pockets, he looked up to survey the World War II memorial from its center, the two arms of the memorial arcing out to the left and right with the states names on pillars before him. In his mind, a Big Band tune played as he watched the tourists scurry around the site in a much more lighthearted mood. Rogers wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or over joyed that people had the freedom to be feeling that way on this unofficial "beginning of summer".

This is where he ran for exercise to escape some of his trauma with sweat and pain, past the Korean War Memorial, the somber statues of soldiers in rice paddies; that black wall always making him look: "Freedom is not Free". The Vietnam Memorial, silent, poignant no matter the time of day or weather. Even the diminutive white marble dome of the D.C War Memorial to commemorate those lost in World War I inspired him to run harder and faster.

But what always stilled his heart lay before him far beyond the end of the National Mall and the Lincoln Memorial. The stately house on the hill, former home to Robert E. Lee, where America's finest lay to rest in Arlington. Bucky's grave was there. So had his been, right next to Barnes', until he was thawed out to this life devoid of his compatriots. He sometimes visited James' grave and talked to him about all the things that had changed since they were together. Steve always felt like he was listening and it helped him when this modern world seemed overwhelming.

Something snapped him out of his reverie; an elderly man shuffling with a walker and his family caught his attention. The man wore a hat on his head that Steve could see said 107th division. Rogers felt compelled to approach, almost apprehensively; not wanting to overwhelm the man since it seems everyone knew who he was these days.

A young boy saw Steve coming toward them and exclaimed and pointed, "Papa! Look! It's Captain America!"

The elderly man stopped and turned his head slowly till his thick glasses over his hooked nose were gazing at the un-uniformed Rogers. "Is that you, Cap?" the man said, questioningly, his voice frail with age.

The adult children and grand children looked at Steve kindly. "Mr. Rogers?" a woman asked as she held her father's shoulders.

"Yes. That's me." Steve said humbly, approaching the family.

There were tears in the eyes of the older man as he tried to straighten up the best he could. He gave Rogers a smart salute, his hand trembling over his brow. The sounds of camera shutters clicked all around them.

Steve froze at attention and returned the honor. Both soldiers looked at each other for a moment at attention till the older man's strength waned.

"Thank you for your service." The adult grandson said, putting his arm around his child, who had identified Rogers.

"No, the thanks should go to your grandfather here. He's the hero." Steve demurred, looking away modestly.

"All gave some, some gave all." The elderly man replied, still gazing proudly at Steve and then to his assembled family.

"Yes. Yes, they did." Steve concurred looking up the mall towards Arlington, "Some gave all."

"Wanna talk about it, Cap? For old times sake?" the older man asked, a small twinkle in his eye.

"Sure, why not." Steve replied with a depreciating smile and gestured to a bench. The family took a seat as Steve began to spin tales of their adventures in the European theater.

Steve could see just beyond the heads of those listening Bucky's ghost, the Howling Commandos and the other men in the 107th. It was as if his words brought them back here for just the moment to remember, as America should at this place.

In his mind he said to himself_, rest brothers. You are not forgotten. Far from it_. That thought made his heart just a little more light to know that as he gazed on the faces of the old man and his family; a true memorial to their sacrifice.

A Memorial wish to all our armed forces. We remember.

8belles


End file.
